Ring of Chronos
by RELEASE THE FLUFFIN
Summary: The return of an old enemy throws Captain Jack Sparrow and the Turners into a quest for a mythical object. Old family secrets are revealed and old rivalries resurface along the way. WARNING: POST DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES! SPOILERS!
1. Prologue: The Fall of Shipwreck Cove

**WARNING: THIS TAKES PLACE AFTER _DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES_! SPOILERS AHEAD! **

**(well, starting chapter 1)**

* * *

"Captain!"

Cannon blasts shook the entire "building", sending a shower of dust from any overhead fixtures down. Candle flames wavered and shadows danced wildly across the walls. A teenager ran, shouting between blasts. She wore a simple brown dress with a dirty apron.

It was simply luck that she ended up as Shipwreck Cove's only maid. Her own mother had been one of many maids, but after the Lady of Shipwreck Cove passed, her widower sent the others away. By the time her mother passed, she knew actually how to do the job, so she was hired almost immediately. It was purely luck that the infamous Keeper of the Code agreed to keep her.

Or so she thought.

Abigail was in the fish market that morning when the first ship made it's way out of the Devil's Throat. British Navy. As more ships slowly started to fill the harbor, she knew it wasn't going to be a pretty night. The teenager quickly started the usual preparations for the Troubadour and her own boat. Cargo needed to be purchased for both, and men summoned for Captain Teague's ship, and she was determined to make sure it was done before demand made prices go up.

By the time both cargo holds were full, men accounted for, and even the _Piratea Codex_ loaded onto her boat-as the Keeper of the Code required, the Navy had started firing. Abigail ran in search of Captain Teague in the cavernous maze she was raised in, pistol in hand.

After several minutes of running and being overlooked, she finally emptied that shot into the head of the man behind Teague. Suddenly, he pulled her down another hall.

"You're late, Abby," Edward Teague teased, finishing off the man he was fighting by stabbing him through the chest.

"If I were on time, I wouldn't've been able to shoot the man about to skewer you."

Captain Edward Teague smiled at her. "Everything set?"

"Aye sir. Just waiting on you," Abigail replied, drawing the sword from under a layer of skirt. She had the honor of being personally trained by the man standing before her, mostly because he needed a sparring partner.

Or so he said.

"You changed the sails?"

Abgiail nodded. "And the extras are loaded."

"Good," Edward said, grabbing a lit torch from the wall. "Martha?"

"Asleep in the boat," Abigail answered, looking at the torch, then back at Teague. "Captain?"

Edward Teague's smile softened as he looked at the teenager standing before him. "Cast off. Don't look back. Get the Code to Captain Jack Sparrow."

"What?"

Suddenly, Captain Edward Teague pressed his forehead against Abigail's. He saw the surprise and confusion in her brown eyes. With all that bright blonde hair, it was easy to overlook those beautiful brown eyes. Her father's brown eyes.

His Jackie's brown eyes.

"You don't want to be here when I drop this," the Keeper of the Code stated quietly, before placing a kiss on her forehead. He straightened, smirking. "Now go!"

Abigail's fingers drifted to her forehead. Then her eye caught what was under the captain's hand. A line of black powder, going towards a door that led downstairs. To the main supports of Shipwreck Cove. "Captain Teague, you can't! You wont make it out in time!"

"I've lived a longer life than most. Definitely longer than any of those cockroaches swarming out there," The Keeper of the Code said. "Go. I'll be fine."

With a quick glance at the torch, Abigail nodded. It was hard for her to disobey this man under normal circumstances. Even before he was her employer, Captain Edward Teague was her only father figure. As a little girl, she adored the man that taught her to read and write, to use a sword and pistol, to sail. Despite how wrong it felt, the teenager wasn't going to disobey him now. "Tortuga then. We'll meet in Tortuga. Savvy?"

Edward Teague chuckled. "Tortuga it is." He knew he wasn't going to keep that promise, but if it got her off the island, he'd say anything.

Turning to run back to her boat, she shouted, "See you there, Captain Teague."

The last thing she heard Captain Edward Teague say changed everything. It was something she honestly suspected for a long time, but never had the courage to ask. Something that Abigail wished he would've confirmed so much sooner. "Good luck, Miss Sparrow."

Then the torch dropped.

In the Devil's Throat, Abigail heard the explosion, followed immediately by the telltale sound of countless buildings collapsing. She knew the entire structure known as the Towne of Shipwreck balanced on a few evenly spaced support beams under Shipwreck Cove. With one of those beams blown out, the entire town was suddenly unstable.

The following gust of wind filled the light blue sails of her boat and sent it out of the tunnel into open water. Abigail stood, looking back at the island her boat drifted away from. "Goodbye, Captain."

Martha, a huge black cat with lots of fluffy fur and a red ribbon on the top of her head meowed.

Abigail looked down, and saw the cat sitting on the chest holding the _Piratea Codex_. Wiping her eyes, the teenager made her way to to front of the boat. At the mast, she grabbed a rope as she leaned over the side, the boat narrowly missing one last rock. Captain Teague gave her an order, and she'll be damned if she didn't do everything in her abilities to accomplish it.

She just had to find Captain Jack Sparrow. How hard could it be?

* * *

 **Hello!**

 **After a very long break, I'm back to writing fan fictions! I saw the new movie opening night and I think I spent half of the credits mentally constructing this.**

 **If I get details wrong, I'm sorry! After I stopped writing fan fictions, I donated most of my research material (AKA: the entire Jack Sparrow series) so now I'm mostly depending on the first three movies' art book, Pirates Wiki, and my own memory.**


	2. Chapter 1: Five Years Later

**FINAL WARNING: MAJOR _DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES_ SPOILERS**

* * *

Five years later….

Captain Jack Sparrow may have had a little too much rum. Drinking far too much had become something of a habit for the infamous pirate, so a little too much was really an improvement. Besides, after witnessing his once enemy turn ally die saving his daughter, Jack Sparrow felt he deserved to get black-out drunk. If it could make him forget.

Then there were the strange dreams. Late at night, when the night was the darkest and quietest, Captain Jack Sparrow would dream of his cabin door slowly opening. An eerily familiar set of heavy boots would stomp their way to the edge of his bed. The room would suddenly fill with the smell of fish and saltwater.

But when he looked, Jack would see no one else but sometimes found tiny barnacles and seashells.

 _"Jackie."_

He stopped, turning around. Jack heard his father's voice, he was sure of it, but the man was nowhere to be found. "Too much rum mate," he told himself as he turned. He kept an over over his shoulder as he took a step…

…right onto a cat's tail.

The sudden shriek startled the drunk pirate. He jumped, but then lost his balance and fell off the docks. To anyone watching, he simply vanished, furthering the myth of Captain Jack Sparrow.

Not to the person whose boat Jack had fallen into.

Abigail grabbed a musket and pointed straight at the intruder. "You. Up."

Jack Sparrow looked up at the young woman. She was dressed in the normal sailor clothes and may have been overlooked, if he didn't recognize the chest she stood in front of. "Where did you get that?"

"Oh it's you," Abigail sighed, lowering the musket. "Finally. I've been looking for you."

"Looking for me?" Jack asked, looking back at the young pirate. Then it was his turn to sigh. "He told you then?"

Abigail nodded, watching as the man she now knew was her father suddenly sat on the bench behind him. After a moment of watching in stunned silence, she carefully placed the musket on the already messy floor and took the few steps to the man, sitting on a small crate in front of him. "Captain?"

Captain Jack Sparrow lowered his head, looking down at the floor. "Was it quick?" he asked quietly. "His death?"

The young woman's eyes drifted down to the cluttered floor. "I think so. Shipwreck Cove was compromised since the battle," Abigail explained as calmly as she could. Truthfully, she hasn't talked about the infamous man's death to anyone, besides the cat. It was hard for her to deal with the memory of the explosion. It was much harder to see another person's reaction to it. Her fingers curled into shaky fists at her sides as she spoke. "It's all gone. Captain Edward Teague died to ensure the Code was protected."

They sat in silence, listening to the sounds of the sea and the nearby town. Jack's eyes followed from his boots to the tips of hers, then up to her face. It was strange to think it, but deep down he was grateful that she didn't look too much like him. Especially that she had her mother's light hair.

Her mother was beauty, though not very bright. When he was younger, Jack Sparrow enjoyed watching her, and fantasizing about her. Unfortunately, they couldn't carry an interesting conversation. It was too frustrating sometimes. Some nights Jack felt he spent more time explaining his stories than actually telling it, and she may still be lost. Eventually, they'd just drink and make love every so often before he left her at some inn far from Shipwreck Cove. Then Jack became a captain and, with so many engaging women interested in him, he stopped flirting with the pretty maid at Shipwreck Cove.

The last time he saw Martha Bakers was the night after the battle. It was late and he probably had too much to drink during all of the celebrating. The only thing he could remember after being lectured by Captain Teague (apparently, the older man did not allow him to flirt with women on his dinner table), was taking the woman in his childhood bedroom. " _Lady Victory_ ," was his name for her that night, which she did not understand but simply went along with.

It was about two years after this that Captain Jack Sparrow received a letter about Abigail from his father.

"Martha," Jack mumbled with sudden understanding as he looked toward the dock at the huge black fluff that was supposed to be a cat. "You named the cat after your mum."

"How do you know her name?"

Captain Sparrow's eyes slid to his daughter. "We met."

 _It was late at night, years ago. Captain Jack Sparrow stumbled into Shipwreck Cove from the storm with a sack tossed over his shoulder. He knew damned well that Captain Edward Teague didn't take too well to surprises, especially at this time, but he hoped some tobacco might help._

 _The infamous Pirate Captain didn't hear it coming, but could feel that he was being watched. That something, somewhere, in the damp dark cavern he was raised in was preparing to pounce._

 _Earlier that day, he heard stories of a great monster that stalks in the dark on the island. A monster with glowing eyes and silent paws that are stained with human blood. This wasn't the first time that story had gone around; Jack Sparrow grew up hearing stories like that circulate. However, this was the first time that it seemed the rumor could have some truth to it._

 _Jack was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn't notice the puddle under the leaky roof. It only took one step for him to slip and fall on the floor. Then, it happened._

 _The monster appeared._

 _Captain Jack Sparrow froze as the thing climbed onto his chest and laid there, staring at him with glowing gold eyes. It was huge and heavy, with lots of black fur that blended with the darkness around them. It was nearly impossible to tell where all of that fur ended, until a light came around the corner._

 _Captain Edward Teague chuckled at the sight. "You can pet her, Jackie. She doesn't bite."_

 _"Pet it?" Jack asked in disbelief, still staring at the huge face before him. Then he noticed the details. The tiny nose, long whiskers, pointed ears on top of the head hidden before fur. The paws tucked under it's chest._

 _"Martha likes being pet," Captain Edward Teague replied, kneeling on the next to them to pet the Great Monster of Shipwreck Cove. In response, she turned and leaned into his hand, purring loudly._

 _Laying on top of Captain Jack Sparrow was the largest cat he'd never seen._

Jack looked up at the sail. "I know that sail."

Abigail stared at her father in amazement as he stood. "You do?"

Touching the sail, Captain Jack Sparrow smiled. "I once sailed on a ship with sails like this."

"Was the _Fleur_ as grand a ship as they say?" Abigail asked as she stood. "I only saw her as a wreck scattered across the beach. Only the sails could be saved." She decided as she watched her father affectionately stroke the light blue sail to not say that she had repurposed the plank with part of the ship's name…as a cutting board. She also decided not to mention how much of the rest of the shipwreck was burned for Captain Teague's birthday celebration that year.

That was one of her favorite memories of home. The celebration of the Keeper of the Code's birthday was always an big event, and surviving the serious of storms that wrecked dozens of ships that year apparently intensified it. Everyone seemed to have turned out for the huge bonfire on the nearby beach. Abigail could remember walking with Captain Teague as they walked around, greeting people. _"No better escort than a pretty woman!" Edward Teague proclaimed with a chuckle as he threw his arm over the teenager's shoulders_.

Suddenly, Abigail felt a familiar weight on her shoulders.

Captain Jack Sparrow used his arm around his daughter to slowly turn her. "That, my dear Abigail, is a grand ship," he stated proudly. He couldn't help smirking when he saw Abigail's jaw drop from the corner of his eye. The _Black Pearl_ sat just diagonal from them at the next dock over. She sparkled in the moonlight, rocking gently in the calm harbor. "Mind walking with me?"

* * *

Later that night, Mr. Gibbs noticed that there were lights in the Captain's Cabin. His chest heaved as he sighed. Captain Hector Barbossa's death had been a shock to many onboard the Black Pearl, especially to Captain Jack Sparrow. Despite how hard he tried to hide it, Mr. Gibbs knew that Jack was struggling with the loss of something like a good friend. Some nights, he would walk in and find the captain pacing, other nights he would sit there in total silence with Jack the Monkey on his shoulder. One particularly memorable night, Mr. Gibbs walked in to find Jack reading to the monkey.

As much as he hated to admit it, Mr. Gibbs wished that it was as easy for Jack to cope as it was after Isla de Muerta.

"Everything alright, Captain?" Mr. Gibbs asked as he walked in. He stopped when his eyes fell on the object laying open on the table. "Mother's love, Jack! Is that-"

"The _Piratea Codex_ ," Captain Sparrow confirmed, not looking away from the open page. He stared down at the list of names on the fairly clean paper. This was one of the few pages that wasn't looked at too often, as the information on it was very obvious. It was a brief list of all of the Keepers of the Code, with nearly every paragraph crossed out in a dark color. The paragraph held Captain Jack Sparrow's attention like a hypnotic snake. This was the only one not crossed out.

 _Edward Teague_

 _Captain of the Misty Lady Troubadour_

 _Pirate Lord of Madagascar_

 _Lord of Shipwreck Island_

"How did you…?"

"My daughter was kind enough to rescue it from the Navy," Jack stated casually, petting Jack the Monkey, who just jumped onto his shoulder. Everybody noticed that the monkey was much more clingy with Captain Sparrow, though no one mentioned it.

"Your daughter? Of course it was your daughter!" Mr. Gibbs threw his hands up in exasperation. "Everybody's got kids now."

"I hear it tends to happen," Abigail stated as she walked in past Mr. Gibbs. She carried a basket holding two cutlasses and a loaf of bread. "To be frank, you adopting Captain Sparrow's what's strange here."

"You don't have to call me Captain, Abby." Jack stated.

Abigail mouthed the word _'dad'_ , and cringed a little. "No. Sorry sir. Can't yet."

Mr. Gibbs smiled. Of course the one person who Jack didn't want calling him by his title insisted on using it. It was likely by the look on her face that it will take some time to transition out of it, if she ever did. This was going to make life onboard the Black Pearl that much more interesting.

"I'd watch your next step, if I were you," Jack said to Mr. Gibbs, gesturing toward the floor.

Mr. Gibbs looked down and saw Martha. This was the biggest cat he'd never seen. The older sailor never cared for cats as they were supposed to be very bad luck, and he quickly decided that he especially did not trust the one currently staring at him with huge glowing eyes. "Captain, mind if I point out that cats are…."

Both Jack and Abigail narrowed their matching eyes at Mr. Gibbs. Sometimes, if he came in at a bad time-which seemed to be happening more often as the Captain aged, this was the look Jack shot at him. It was startling to see such a similar look on two different faces, especially when it resembled a third so much. It was at this moment Mr. Gibbs decided that this expression, along with the increasing irritability, must be passed down through the blood from Teague's family.

Which brought up another important point.

"Captain, is there any particular reason why Captain Teague's not here with the Code?"

Jack Sparrow froze for a moment, seeming to suddenly lose the ability to speak. It was too soon for him to say the words. The pirate captain knew that he would eventually be asked, but was hoping to be a little more drunk so the words might slip out easier.

Abigail looked down at the basket as he quietly set it on the table. The candlelight's flickering reflections danced on the trim of the twin cutlasses' scabbards. These were no ordinary cutlasses. They were known to have been passed down through the Teague family, along with the title Keeper of the Code, for generations. Decades ago, when he was a much more active pirate, Captain Edward Teague used those blades and was almost always seen with them. Mr. Gibbs remembered overhearing the older man promising to eventually pass them down to Jack, _"when you're ready or I'm dead, whichever comes first. Savvy?"_

Mr. Gibbs hoped he was also ready.

After a quiet moment, Captain Jack Sparrow pulled a cutlass just a little out of the scabbard, enough to expose part of the blade. He hesitated before pressing a finger against the edge. Then he used the blood from that finger to cross out the paragraph he'd been staring out. His father's paragraph.

"Now comes the hard part," Abigail mumbled, tearing off a piece of bread. The young woman then ripped a small piece of her portion and gave it to Jack the Monkey. "Captain Sparrow, I've done you a favor. Now I need your help."

Somehow, Jack knew this was coming. "Depends. What is it?"

"I'm looking for the Flying Dutchman."

* * *

 **The cat memory was actually going to be a short story for Fun Times of the Caribbean, but then Martha somehow wandered into here. T** **rust me: Martha the cat is a very important character later on. Probably much later on.**

 **Next chapter coming next week.**


	3. Chapter 2: Freedom

The extra longboat on deck stuck out like a sore thumb. It wasn't just the crocked makeshift mast or the reddish hue of its wood that set it apart. Perhaps what made it stand out the most was the person laying in it.

Abigail watched the stars twinkling overhead. Once, she may have been able to name the brightest ones. She could still remember the sound of their names in her grandfather's voice. Still smell the mix of alcohol, tobacco, and sea salt that surrounded the man.

Now, the names were simply meaningless words to her.

The small boat creaked softly as Captain Jack Sparrow half sat on the railing. He looked up at the sky. "You know, you do have a perfectly good bed in a cabin."

"I know," Abigail replied, not moving.

Jack looked at his daughter from the corner of his eyes. "Might not be new, but its your own bed."

"I have my own boat," Abigail stated with a proud smile. "She may not be as grand as the _Pearl_ , but she's still mine."

 _'Was I like this with the Barnacle?'_ The pirate captain thought with a smirk. He was much worse with the _Barnacle_. Part of him was still convinced that it was a just a small ship. "She'll still be here in the morning."

"I'd assumed she would, considering how hard it was to get her onboard," Abigail said as she sat back up. She picked up a bottle of rum. "I heard people talking in town. Is it true that Captain Barbossa is dead?"

"Saw it myself, luv."

"Captain Teague would not be happy."

Jack frowned, crossing his arms. "Not like I killed him. This time." He knew what his daughter meant though. It was a belief on Shipwreck Island that it was bad luck for there to be less than nine pirate lords when a new Keeper of the Code takes over. According to the stories, if that does happen, the new Keeper will die right after the ninth Lord is named. Still, Captain Sparrow faced worst odds.

"At least you've still got two more Lords to-"

"One more," Jack corrected with a smirk. "Congrats, Gail. You've inherited the Caribbean."

Abigail looked up at her father. She stared at him, amazed at how much he resembled his father. It wasn't the first time she felt in awe by the man. Growing up on Shipwreck Island, she knew of Captain Jack Sparrow only as a legend, the figure of many stories told by people in the marketplace or over pints of ale at the taverns. His name was heard most from teenage girls and young women, many who apparently collected anything even remotely related to the man, from wanted posters to strands of dark hair claimed to have been plucked from his head. Many claimed to have seen the pirate captain. Some even wished to eventually marry-or at the very least sleep with him.

Truthfully, even Abigail had a wanted poster stashed in her bedroom, tucked into a book under a loose floorboard next to her bed. He symbolized the freedom she longed for. He was one of the few people who made a life far from the protected island. Most would stay close and salvage wrecked ships for supplies and parts.

And now her symbol for freedom stood next to her, telling her that the very thing that seemed to elude her for so long was hers.

"Abigail?" Jack looked over his shoulder.

"Captain, I-"

Jack smirked, turning to face her, as he said, "Dad. We all know I'm your bloody dad. May as well call me that." He paused when his fingers brushed against the swords that hung on his old belt on either hip. He half expected that poor old strip of leather to snap at any moment for the last few years. With the added weight of the twin swords, he found himself checking that it was still there often.

"With all due respect, captain, I am nowhere near ready to be captain."

"Luv, I was named Pirate Lord when I was barely walking and look at me now," Jack said. He turned around and held his arms out to show off. "Captain of the _Black Pearl_ and Keeper of the Code."

"Is it true you spent the first twenty years with your dad as your co-captain?"

Jack's arms lowered. "No. Yes. On and off. Not the whole time." His arms crossed as he turned his back. Then his fingers caught a cut in the boat's railing. He looked down and smirked. He knew that longboat very well. It was the one Captain Teague escaped on after the Misty Lady was lost in the battle against Salazar.

That was bugging him. Jack truthfully had no idea who Salazar was before hearing his name from Henry. Apparently, he had wronged him at some point, but then who hasn't he wronged? That wasn't the first time anyone had been that intent on killing him, though it was the closest.

Even his memories of the apparently epic battle where he supposedly was named captain of the Wicked Wench seem…wrong. They don't feel like they're his memories at all. In fact, they contradicted the facts he was sure of. Jack remembered buying the Wicked Wench from Lord Cutler Beckett. Why would he buy a ship he already owned?

"Can I co-captain with you?"

Abigail's question caught Jack off guard. He turned around to face his daughter, who was now standing. Even if she wasn't confident in leading others yet, the young Sparrow stood like him. "As long as you don't want the _Pearl_."

"Why would I want the _Pearl_ now when I can just wait?" Abigail asked, climbing out of the boat.

"Wait for what, pray tell?"

Abigail smirked as she looked up to him. "Frankly, you're getting old. You've got grey hairs. You've got aches you calm with rum. You're moody in the morning. You're forgetful the rest of the time," she said, counting off points with her fingers. "Why go through all the trouble of organizing a mutiny when I can just wait a few years and inherit the _Black Pearl_?"

"I am not that old."

"You're only twenty years younger than Captain Teague."

"Dad could've lived longer," Jack stated, though he was secretly amazed that his father lived so long. A pirate's life was usually short. He knew very few in the Caribbean that lasted more than two years, and they were all on board with him. He remembered Captain's Teague's crew seemed to be a completely different group every time he saw his father.

Also, Captain Teague drank and smoked much more than normal. Even when he was a little boy swinging around a wooden sword and trapping mice, Jack was sure that the drinking and smoking would kill him.

Abigail leaned back, looking down at the deck. "The last few years, Captain Teague had this cough. It was horrible. Some nights, I'd wake to hear his cough echo in the halls." She looked up at the sky above them. The sky was starting to fade from the deep velvety violet of night to the soft pinks and blues of dawn. "He told me that, if anything happened, to get the Code to you. Then find William Turner."

Will Turner sat at a table, staring out the window. Out there, beyond the grassy hill, the rising sun's reflection danced temptingly on the waves. After all that time out at sea, abandoning all hope for a life like this, he should have been thankful to finally have the life he once dreamed about. Instead, he longed to once again feel the waves and the salty breeze.

Will Turner knew the _Flying Dutchman_ sat at the docks with every other ship in port, though inspiring more awe and fascination. He knew that she was waiting to return as well. The captain could feel it in every fiber of his being. They were both still part of that big blue expanse just beyond the safe harbor.

 _"Freedom, mate,"_ Will could imagine Jack saying, with a drunken smirk. Perhaps that was what he wanted. Freedom to stay on land. Freedom to go out to sea. Freedom to be his own man.

It was a freedom that Will Turner could not afford.

Elizabeth stood by the door, watching her husband. She remembered when she felt the tug of those ocean waves just beyond the reach of the lighthouse beam. She had a much easier time resisting the temptation though, in the form of her son. _'Our son'_ , she was constantly correcting to herself. It was difficult to get used to the idea that she was not a single parent anymore. Maybe it was too late.

Over two decades too late.

"Good morning, Will," Elizabeth finally greeted as she sat down at the table across from her husband.

Will watched his wife. "Hello, Elizabeth."

There was an undeniable awkwardness between them, now that the initial surprise of finally being reunited had passed. So much time had slipped by as their relationship hung in limbo every ten years, anxiously waiting for that one day in heaven. Now that they had been blessed with forever, their worst fear was realized; they had grown apart.

Gently, Will placed his hand on hers. When she instinctive pulled her hand back a little, he sighed. "Sorry. I know they're rough."

Elizabeth smiled at her husband, at the memory of the man she loved. A man she wasn't sure was the same one that sat with her. There were somethings even rougher than Will Turner's hands. Such as the memories of the lonely lives they've lead up until this point.

Truthfully, they still lead strangely lonely lives, but together.

"Will, I am truly glad that you are here," Elizabeth said as she held his hand.

"It's amazing to be here, with you and Henry."

They both sat in silence, still holding hands. They already ran out of things to say. They spent their first few days together talking almost nonstop, about the short past they shared, about their difficult lives apart, their plans for the future.

Plans that Elizabeth could already see crumbling before her eyes, as Will's seemed to always drift back toward the open waters. "Do you miss it?"

Already, Will had gone back to watching the waves and had to turn back to his wife. "Sorry?"

"Do you miss being out there?" Elizabeth asked, looking out the window. She didn't want to be looking at Will when he answered. She knew the answer already, and didn't want to be disappointed when he either confirmed it or lied. Mrs. Turner already hated the sea. It took her husband away from her for what seemed like a lifetime, and was now tempting him back after just months away.

"Of course I do," Will admitted, looking down at her hands. "But I missed you so much more than I could ever miss it."

Elizabeth turned to watch as her husband brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it. She knew, as her eyes followed his, that it wasn't the complete truth. He missed the sea now just as much as he missed her then, possibly more.

Will Turner stood from the table, his hand slipping away from his wife's. "I have to go," he said quietly, giving her a quick kiss. "I love you." He then grabbed the sack from the middle of the table and walked out of the room.

* * *

 **Sorry! I had so many different versions of this chapter! It was very difficult to decide on which version I wanted to use. I actually wrote the second half right after posting this story as the the beginning, but then the second half didn't quite fit. To be honest, I** **wasn't sure where this was headed.**

 **Now that I've a clearer idea of what's going on, I'll try to update sooner!**


	4. Chapter 3: Sketches

Abigail slept on the bench under a window in the shared cabin, curled up to fit in the small space. She had a dark smear on her face from the charcoal that was broken on the bench next to her right hand, which was under her head. An old suede-covered journal was still in her other hand, hanging just over the side of the bench. Her boots were neatly placed on the floor near her feet, which were covered in dirty white stockings with floral patterns on the ankles.

Carefully, Jack Sparrow draped a blanket over his sleeping daughter. He took a step back and smirked. This still wasn't the bed he actually spent money to buy her, but sleeping in the cabin was a big improvement from the old boat.

The journal finally slipped out of Abigail's hand as she relaxed under the blanket. Jack's smirk momentarily slipped, but returned when he realized she was just pulling the blanket closer. He picked up the journal and closed it, still watching the sleeping person. She really did look like her mother, though he could also see a lot of himself in her. He sat down on the floor next to the bench, making sure he didn't disturb her. He turned his back to her as his smirked turned into an actual smile.

' _Having a child is the best and worst thing that will ever happen to you,'_ Jack remembered Edward Teague telling him once when they were both drunk in Tortuga. Was quiet, peaceful moments like this part of that best bit? Jack was damn sure he knew the worst….

Suddenly, Captain Jack Sparrow had the urge to look through the journal. The first page was a sketch of Captain Teague's favorite guitar, along with studies of the worn neck and frets of the instrument. Next few pages were sketches of the man himself, with various facial expressions and gestures that brought back so many memories to Jack. There were even full pages dedicated to his hands and rings. Every page had a label on the bottom corner. Some also had notes all around the pages about completely different things, like lists of things needed for that night's supper or reminders to do things.

Then, there was another familiar face: Will Turner.

Jack had to stop when he saw this sketch of a very clearly cursed Will. In the drawing, the current Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ had barnacles growing on his clothes and face. There was a starfish next to his left eye. Then he saw that Abigail had written _'Angel?'_ on the bottom of the page. He glanced over his shoulder at Abigail, questioning her definition of an angel.

He skipped the next few pages of cat drawings to another drawing of Will. This one showed the curse had progressed even further. It was again labeled as _'Angel?'_ and also included a reminder: _'ask drunk about sea myths-older better.'_

The next page was very strange. It was covered in writing. Sentences that went left to right, just for another to go backwards over it. Some even went vertically through sentences. Some were written spiraling in with others spiraling out of them and interlocking. Some went in small sections going diagonally cross the page, with others crossing over to create large X's. It was a very concerning mess of letters, with just a few words even more concerning words standing out.

' _William Turner'_

' _Flying Dutchman'_

' _Davy Jones'_

' _Calypso'_

' _Chronos'_

"Chronos?" Jack repeated aloud to himself. He looked over at Abigail again. "Abigail, luv, you've already got a mess here. Let's not make it worse?"

The next several pages were the same. The same illegible mess of words that overlapped and crisscrossed in different ways. Jack couldn't figure out where most of the sentences even started. Then, after puzzling over every page of tangled writing, he found something that made him grin.

It was a sketch of him at the helm of the _Black Pearl_. There were also studies of the helm on the sides and bottom. There was also a drawing of his compass with a note: _'Must ask Dad how compass works.'_ His fingers lingered on his newest unspoken title.

The infamous pirate yawned, then slowly leaned his head back to watch Abigail. "Daughter."

Captain Jack Sparrow had fallen asleep in that position when the figure appeared. The slow _step-scrape_ of his heavy footsteps broke the silence as he made his way to the table. The figure stopped at the table, only to find a bottle of rum at one end, a bottle of red wine at the other end, and a colorful bowl of fruit in the middle. The figure raised an arm to slam into the old piece of furniture in frustration, but then noticed the two sleeping people.

The stranger made his way around the table and stopped in front of Jack. He laughed quietly, placing the point of his claw-hand against the sleeping pirate's chest. Just one thrust and he'll finally be rid of Jack Sparrow.

The gunshot woke both Sparrows from their sleep. They were both alert and on their feet within seconds, Jack with his pistol and Abigail with a knife, to find themselves alone in the cabin. The door opening caught their attention.

Mr. Gibbs saw Jack turn the pistol on him and shoot the doorframe. "Dammit Jack it's me!"

"Well thank goodness I missed then, eh?" Jack offered innocently as he lowered the smoking gun.

The first mate looked around before shouting over his shoulder, "False alarm! Captains are safe! Back to your stations!"

Jack glanced back, quickly looking away as soon as he realized that Abigail kept her knife under her blouse. Then, some shiny caught his attention and he turned around. "Mr. Gibbs, you didn't see anyone else?"

"No one."

Abigail followed Jack's stare to the scattered crumbs on the floor. She kneeled down to examine some. "It's…shell?"

Mr. Gibbs looked over at the table. "Jack! The Code!"

Jack rolled his eyes, pointing to the chest in the corner of the cabin. Martha the cat was sitting on top, her amber eyes glowing in the dark. "The creepy fleabag won't let me open it."

Abigail stood up. "If Mr. Gibbs didn't see anyone leave then…."

All three looked at the door at the other end of the cabin. It was the only other exit, the captains' sleeping quarters. Jack took a step around Abigail, and stepped on something. A pistol. After quickly checking to make sure the pistol wasn't loaded, he started to examine the weapon. Both his and Abigail's eyes popped when they saw the name etched into the barrel of the gun.

' _Edward Teague'_

The rising sun's light bleed through the window into a particularly neat study. A woman sat at the desk, watching a crystal ball on the desk next to a folded letter. Before the door even fully opened behind her, she picked up the letter and held it over her shoulder. "The _Black Pearl_ will arrive before noon. See to it that both Captain Sparrows receive this. Fitz and I would hate for them to miss tea."

* * *

 **Short chapter. I actually rewrote this chapter sooo many times, partly because I kept forgetting to save. I think I wrote five different versions of this chapter before settling on this.**

 **Time to start writing chapter 4!**


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